-A Treasured Past-

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, or her characters. All herein belongs to CS Lewis, and the CS Lewis estate.

Summary: Sometimes, the ties that bind a family are not quite as strong as they seem to be… (The tale behind my poem "Two Kings, Two Queens".

Prologue

Midsummer.

The sun shines, the flowers are blooming and the chorus of birds starts up in the morning dew. Once again the windows of the chapel are thrown as open as we dare, and the small details still about this place are aired out as much as they can be. This place, this sanctuary… this is home now. Far away, still sitting perilously atop the cliffs, sits Cair Paravel; but nothing is as it should be.

Eleven years after we first came into Narnia… and everything is changed. The world is no longer terrorised by an ancient Witch of winter… but the earth still feels cold, dead, and frozen. We are frozen with it; our minds spinning in time, lost in the moment when we ourselves became lost – the rest of our land reeling with us. When we look back upon the paths we have taken, one might find themselves surprised. Once, when the world was light and when time and Aslan stood at our side, we were the joy and heart of a country that meant the world to us. Once, we were unbeatable; a Golden Age that rivalled the legends of King Arthur and his. We danced to the song of the world with joy, a force to be reckoned with, the Chosen of the Lion Himself, the beloved of Narnia.

Once, everything was perfect.

Now, the ground no longer sings, and though the sun still shines brightly every day, it seems colder, harsher. We no longer dance, we no longer sing, we no longer carry ourselves with pride. We are still His Chosen, and yet the name means nothing now. The honour and the title and the peace… it means nothing. For now, here in this cold Castle that we once called home, there is only he and I; the two left to rule, the two who would have, should have, sacrificed everything so that this did not happen. But looking back… should we have seen this moment arriving? Should we have somehow been able to change the path that Destiny had laid out for us? Aslan has no answers; and there is no one else to turn to.

The Just, and the Valiant – oh, what a pair we make. The last of the Royal Four; the world is empty now. Hollow.

I don the light green dress; in need of repair and a little too small these days, but it will have to do. It is very much the best of what I have, and I cannot complain. I have to remind myself sometimes that though things are still bleak, I still have him. I have my faith, and I have Justice at my side; and that should be enough. But today is not about faith, and it is not about Justice. Today… today is a day for memory, for sadness, for recollection. The walk is so familiar; the path like a vein in one's hand that cannot be forgotten. This ancient place that we have resided to… this darkened home… the sodden ground upon which I walk – yes, it is all too familiar. My cloak wraps around me against the chill of the morning breeze, the sound of my footsteps echo a little against the slap of the wooden pathway beneath me. A sprig of rosemary in my hand; not much, but the best we can do, given the circumstances. He will not mind – he was always grateful for the smallest thing.

Edmund is already there, head bowed, murmuring softly; so soft I cannot hear. I stop, allowing him his moment. He comes here more often than I – but then, their bond was always stronger than his and mine. Today, though… today is special. I let Edmund have a few moments more, then step forward, and gently kneel next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. My brother starts a little, hand on his sword, then manages a shaky smile as he realises who it is. "Apologies," I murmur softly. "I did not mean to startle you." My brother shakes his head, reaches forward and quickly squeezes my hand – the hurt is forgotten. Ills between us last little more than seconds these days; we have both learned the burden of carrying bitterness. We both have things we should have said to those who can no longer hear them.

I let my eyes raise to the stone before me; feeling that familiar numb rush pulse through me. We didn't dare put a name… but we know who lays here. Oh yes, we know. I take the sprig of rosemary, and gently place it on the stone's flat top.

"How did it come to this?" Edmund asks, softly, and I sigh, shaking my head.

"Only Aslan knows."

"I just…." My brother's voice breaks and I lean forward, gently wrapping my arms around him.

"I know," I murmur, holding him close. His arms wrap around me, and we hold each other for a moment. "I know, brother. But we cannot change what was… only what will be." Edmund's eyes spark with tears, and he shakes his head.

"I cannot stand this!" he explodes, and I look around, somewhat worried. "None of this should have happened! If she hadn't—"

"Shh, shh!" I gesture with my hands for him to calm down. "Edmund, stop. Stop. Don't talk of such things.

"But she has gotten away with murder, Lu! How can Aslan allow this? How can we just sit by and allow this?! After everything…" His voice breaks, and he closes his eyes, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. "I hate her, Lu. I hate her."

"Don't say that, Ed." I murmur. He glances at me, obviously about to argue again. "I mean," I add, hurriedly, "You know how dangerous speaking like that is. You're not the only one who feels this way- you're not." I add, seeing his doubtful look. "But we need to be careful."

My brother lets out a long sigh, suddenly looking greyer and older. "I know. I just…" his voice cracks again and he shakes his head. "Damn her. Damn her, and damn the past." He glances around, hearing a snap of a branch somewhere, once again his hand flying to the pummel of his sword, but relaxes quickly, realising it was nothing more than the wind. "We're exiles in our own Country, Luce. Thrown out by her."

"Ed please," I am not keen to attract attention – especially here. "Please, lower your voice."

"She is right, you know." A familiar voice trills through the air, and we both tense. Edmund curses, and stands, sword suddenly freed from its holding as he steps in front of me. Despite the situation, I have to roll my eyes a little at his gallantry. I can hold my own, as he well knows, but I have to admit to appreciating the protectiveness. "You really should be careful."

Like something out of a bad dream, the cause of our misery steps from the trees. "Susan." Edmund sneers, all levels of courtesy dropped at the sight of her. For against us, she looks like something out of a fairy tale. Dressed in dark green, the colours of our home, her sleeves embroidered with red and gold, Susan has never looked more righteous. A porcelain face hides the evil we know lies therein; and for a moment, I am struck – struck by the knowledge that I neither know this woman anymore, nor want to know her. It should sadden me, this knowledge, but all I feel is pity for her. She risked everything… and for what? A cold castle, the suspicion of her people?

Susan laughs softly, and I feel our brother shudder a little at the sound. "I would drop your weapon, brother mine." She advises, smiling slightly. "There are guards swarming these woods, and one call from me would have them upon you. I doubt you particularly want to share his fate, do you?" She challenges, glancing towards the grave. My heart sinks – how on earth does she know where his grave is? "Oh yes," Susan continues, seeing my look. "I've known for some time. Don't worry, though. I don't care where you've buried him. Though honestly I would have thought you would have done so with a bit of subtlety." She shrugs. "Edmund, do put away that sword. I am only here to pay my… well, to visit him."

"You have no place here anymore, Susan." Edmund growls. "You betrayed us. You murdered him. And for what? The crown? The country?"

Our sister simply rolls her eyes. "For reasons you would never understand, brother." She states, her eyes cold upon us. "I gave him a fair chance, you know. To accept the changes, but he would not. He was foolish." Her voice turns soft. "If I could have, I would have done something… anything… to keep him safe. But sacrifices had to be made, and, well… it was his own fault. Besides, it hasn't gone too badly for me since, has it?" Her hand strays to her belly, and I cannot help but stare – something I should have noticed before; the slight rolling of a pregnant stomach beneath her clothing... she is expecting. I glance at Edmund – he looks positively sickened.

"All this." He murmurs. "All this for … for what? The chance to put an illegitimate heir on the throne?" he shakes his head. "What has happened to you, Susan?"

"It is not illegitimate!" She is practically preening. "I am Queen, and I made him King. We are the rulers now, Little Brother. If you could but accept it, you could come home… back to Cair Paravel… back to me." Does she really think that we are so easily taken? I glance over at my brother… but to my horror he looks… thoughtful. No. He couldn't… could he?

Edmund steps forward, until he is almost toe-to-toe with our sister. "I would like that more than anything." He murmurs, meeting her eyes, and I hear the regret in his voice. I feel sick- is he going to abandon me, too? But then – a slice of metal through the air, gold catches in the sun, and a gasp from our sister, as the Just King thrusts his blade into her belly, causing her to double over. I barely have a moment to react when he draws the sword out, the blade thick with blood, and swings it once more, cleanly chopping our sister's head from her shoulders. Her body falls to the ground, the head rolling a few feet away, and I step back in horror, feeling queasy.

My eyes raise to meet Edmund's as my brother turns to me, his expression grim. "What have you done?" I whisper. He swallows, and takes the blade – the sword that once belonged to our brother – and wipes it on the grass, cleaning it of the blood that still pours from our sister's body.

"We have to leave. Before we are found." His voice is oddly calm. It is… a little unnerving. I swallow hard, and glance towards the body of our once Gentle Queen once more.

"We can't just… leave her here."

"Her guards will find her." He assures me, though there is still that chill to his words. I wonder if he even regrets what he has done. "Come on, Lu." Without another word he grabs my hand, and I let him pull me back to the safety of our trees, back to uncertainty, back into the shadows, the sight of Susan's beheaded corpse next to our brother's grave seared into my mind forever.

So here we are; hiding in the ruins of an old temple – one of those built by our brother during the Golden Age, then later wrecked as the world we knew turned to chaos and blood. It seems ironic, chilling, and strange to be here; the temple is not like I remember it, but it is still a sanctuary… if, of course, her people still even consider such things.

Edmund is praying, but I cannot. The crime committed today – no matter the circumstances – is not one that can be forgiven. Even Aslan cannot forgive it, surely? Aslan, what have we become? Night-time has stolen upon us, and this horrid, vicious crime weighs heavily on my mind. The silence is deafening… but wait. What is that? I run to the nearby window; hoping, praying that I am wrong… but no. In the distance, the formidable sound of drums has started. A line lit up in flames; men wearing her colours; swords raised high.

"Edmund!" I call out, in a half-whisper, terrified. He stumbles from his prayer, and runs to my side, eyes widening at the sight that greets him.

"Lion's mane." He murmurs.

I swallow hard, and cannot help but stare at the impressive army… I cannot see them all, but there must be thousands. How have so many been called so quickly? How long did it take to discover her, to call them to aid? "She must have been loved, after all." I murmur.

Edmund glances at me. "Perhaps." He takes a deep breath, and picks up Peter's old sword from where it lays. "Better prepare yourself, Lu. Dagger and cloak and all." His smile is grim, and a shudder courses through me. "I think war has just been declared."

Author's N: So… I'm a bit nervous about this one. Should I continue?